


these hearts adore

by fullstop (orphan_account), twistedstars



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enjoy!, Fluff, M/M, also probably inaccurate portrayal of uni life but, also sweaterpaws louis bc who doesn't need that, everyone is cramming for finals, it's not britpicked I'm sorry, lots of banter and fluff, oh well, ot5 feels, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:17:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2907293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/fullstop, https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedstars/pseuds/twistedstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the the three weeks leading up to finals, Harry loses his sweaters, his notes, and his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	these hearts adore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [babyscars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyscars/gifts).



> This fic is [M](http://malabamidoodle.tumblr.com)'s baby and all credit goes to her. She's wonderful. Go shower her in love. Title is from Sweater Weather by the Neighbourhood.
> 
> Original prompt was: uni au where it's winter and Louis keeps stealing his sweaters and Harry doesn't have the heart to tell him he wants them back so he starts pinning little notes to the inside of his sleeve and... (not including the rest bc spoilers!)
> 
> -A

**3 weeks to finals**

The heater in Harry and Niall’s hall is broken. Liam, shelving books at the campus library when Harry goes to him to mourn, hums sympathetically and doesn’t stop working.

“Do you two need to stay at mine for a bit? I’ll sneak you in,” he offers. “Here, carry these books and follow me, won’t you. Make yourself useful for once.”

“Nah, too much work to move to yours,” Harry dismisses gloomily, following him deeper into the shelves. He eyes Liam’s biceps with a clinical sort of appreciation when the boy reaches up to fit a couple more books into a case. “And excuse you, Liam, I’m always useful. Why don’t _you_ make yourself useful and come cuddle with me in my ice-hell of a room? Sharing body heat, and all that.”

“Your default state should not be 'flirting', Styles,” Liam scolds, pulling a face at him. “It’s disturbing, is what it is. Even more disturbing, you sleep naked. Get Niall to cuddle with you.”

Harry grins, bats his eyelashes ridiculously. “Can’t help but flirt when you’re so pretty, Liam. Seeing you lift all these heavy books...” He pretends to fan himself, giggles for real, and manages to stumble into Liam only halfway on purpose and drops all of the books. Liam catches him easily- those biceps really do deserve admiration- and sighs in a way that manages to be both disapproving and fond.

“You’re a menace.”

“You love me.”

“I love Harry, too,” pipes up a new voice. “What’s going on?” Niall, Liam’s co-worker and Harry’s best friend, appears from between the shelves, trailed by another student. “Was just helping Zayn here find a book,” he adds brightly.

Harry looks from where Liam is still clutching him tightly, to the expression on Liam’s beautiful face, to the stranger’s even more beautiful face, and then- oh. He understands. This is _the_ Zayn, working his was towards an English degree, and who Liam talks about a lot. Too much. Harry’s been trying to meet him ever since he witnessed Liam get drunk and cry about his eyelashes once.

Unpeeling himself from Liam’s grasp, he announces, “Niaaaall. Niall, our heating is broken.”

“That’s alright,” Niall says, “We’ll cuddle.”

“The two of us might not be enough,” Harry persists, “Don’t you think Liam should join?”

He pauses for a moment, remembers that this might not be helpful to say in present company. Tries to fix it. “And... Zayn. Zayn can come too. D’you want to come cuddle with us?” This last question Harry directs at Zayn himself, who squints at him, a little wary, before flicking eyes for a beat over to Liam.

“Oh my god, please ignore him,” Liam says, obviously embarrassed. He doesn’t seem to be able to look back at Zayn directly, or to know what he should do with his hands. After a moment, he drops down and begins to gather up the books Harry dropped. Privately, Harry thinks having Liam on his knees in front of his crush won’t help matters, but decides not to mention this.

“Don’t ignore me,” he replies instead. “You’ll hurt my feelings.”

“Aww, Haz,” Niall coos. He rushes over dramatically to cradle Harry’s face in his palms, which Harry gleefully reciprocates. “We don’t need Liam, do we?”

“I can’t come over, anyway,” Liam announces, carefully addressing the book he holds in his hands. “I’m going to be in this library till finals are over, studying.”

“Me too,” Zayn speaks finally, voice more gentle than Harry expected from someone with a couple days’ worth of stubble and a remarkable amount of tattoos. His accent rounds out his words in a way that makes everything roll out of his mouth smoothly. “I’ll be studying, I mean. ‘m afraid you’ll have to depend on Niall.” His face is grave but his eyes, hazel and mischief-bright, are not.

Harry is helpless not to smile. “Traitors, the both of you,” he says. “Leaving me to freeze.”

“Am I not enough for you, Styles?” Niall demands, from where he’s still cupping Harry’s face.

“Oh no, I’m sure you’ll keep me warm just fine,” Harry assures him with a smirk.

“There you go again,” Liam scolds. “Flirting when you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it,” Harry protests, “I want to cuddle naked with you all.”

“Ehm, anyway,” Zayn says, “I should probably go.“

Niall makes a face. “Already? Come back soon.”

“The least you could do, if you’re not going to help us not freeze in our rooms, is to keep us company in the library,” Harry says logically. By ‘us’ he means Liam. He’s leaving Zayn alone with Liam first chance he gets and will spy on them from behind the bookcases.

“We could be a study group for finals,” Niall suggests, because Niall is brilliant and catches on fast. Liam seems to be too horrified to speak, but Harry knows a speechless Liam will never last long, so they have to seal this deal quickly.

“We’ll meet regularly,” Harry adds. “Very regularly. How bout tomorrow? In the afternoon? Excellent. My name’s Harry, by the way. It was very nice to meet you, we won’t take up any more of your time, bye!” He ushers a bemused Zayn out before Liam can form words again. By the time he gets back though, he’s obviously regained the ability, though he’s still kneeling on the floor.

“I’m not sure if I love you or hate you right now.”

Harry flops on top of him, knocking him flat on his back and ignoring his resulting yelp. “Love me,” he orders. “You owe me a cuddle, and I want it now.”

 

**2 weeks, 6 days to finals**

After he finishes finals, Harry will have completed his first semester at uni, and he has to admit he still doesn’t feel like he fits anywhere. He likes everyone, and there’s no end to the parties, but Niall is his only close friend. He hopes his newer friendship with Liam will strengthen over time, but Liam, who seems to be even more of a loner than Harry, has been slow to open under Harry’s constant teasing. Harry suspects that this more out of caution than disinterest; something about the careful way Liam carries himself makes Harry think he might not have had many friends before uni, either.

The library has been a haven for both of them. It’s kind of dark and the shelves, which appear to be positioned in no particular order, are terrifyingly easy to get lost in, but it’s warm, and they can stay as long as they want. Harry’s got a favorite spot near the back, out of range of most of the students’ routes, and it's there that the boys plan to meet for the first study session.

Harry gets there early with Niall and Liam, which only gives Liam more time to get nervous. He fidgets so much that Harry eventually gives up trying to calm him down and just sits on him to subdue him. This is, of course, the moment Zayn arrives.

“Doesn’t this look cosy,” remarks a tart voice that definitely isn’t Zayn's.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Harry says. There’s no graceful way for him to extricate himself from his current position, which is basically straddling Liam where’s he sprawled on the floor; he has to twist his body halfway in order to see the speaker, who is standing behind Zayn.

“Get off me, Styles,” says Liam through where his hands are covering his face.

Harry does so, if only better to see Zayn’s companion. Strangely, he isn’t wearing a coat, just a worn vest and equally threadbare sweats. He’s shorter than Zayn and nearly as skinny, with rumpled brown hair and bright blue eyes in a captivating face.

“Hi,” Harry says intelligently. “Um. Are you... here for the study group?”

“Well, I _was_ just going to walk Zayn over,” says the boy, in a tone that would be teasing if it weren’t for the protective hand he has on Zayn’s elbow. “but it looks like you boys might need a chaperone.”

Zayn snorts. “You, a chaperone?”

“Excuse me, Zayn,” the boy exclaims. “I am very responsible. And I’m older.”

And there goes Harry’s plan to leave Zayn and Liam alone together.

Louis- as the boy turns out to be named- is not responsible. Or a particularly good chaperone. Or particularly interested in studying. A half an hour in and Harry finds himself completely distracted as he chases after Louis, the latter running through the shelves, cackling and spilling Harry’s notes everywhere.

“No running in the library,” Liam hisses at them.

“Come and make me, Liam,” shouts Louis.

“No shouting in the library,” Liam adds.

“It’s no use, mate,” Harry hears Zayn say to Liam. He’s almost caught up to Louis by now, but he keeps slipping on the papers Louis is trailing. He takes a leap of faith- literally- and manages to tackle him.

“He really is cuddly, isn’t he,” Zayn remarks casually. “First you, Liam, and now Lou. Is this, like, a friendship initiation thing? Do I have to be tackled by Harry too?”

“Liam’ll pin you down instead,” Niall suggests, from a safe vantage point outside of the fray. “Harry seems a bit busy.”

“Um,” says Liam.

Harry wishes he could see Liam’s expression, but he’s a bit occupied at the moment. Louis is struggling underneath him but still has a death grip on Harry’s papers, and while Harry discovers happily that he easily outmatches him in size and strength, he can’t get Louis to let go of the notes.

“Let me up,” Louis demands.

“Give me back my things,” Harry counters.

“Give me back my _thiiiings_ ,” Louis mocks in a sing-song voice, and then knees Harry in the balls.

“I hope that’s not a friendship initiation thing of _yours_ ,” Niall comments.

Harry sort of hopes that it _is_.

He spends the next couple of hours dividing his time between Louis and his (thankfully unruined) notes, with a disproportionate amount spent on Louis, until Liam is announcing, “I think we should call it a day, lads.” He eyes Zayn and Niall, who appear to be asleep, and Louis, who’s drawing with sharpie all over Harry’s arm, and adds dryly, “So glad we’ve all used our time productively.”

“We can’t all be responsible engineering students, Leeyum,” Zayn murmurs drowsily. Apparently he’s awake.

“Wait, how did you know what I was studying?”

“Zayn thinks Liam’s fit,” Louis confides to Harry in a whisper, still carefully shading the rude picture he’s drawn on his arm. He’s been holding Harry’s hand to ‘keep him still’.

“Liam thinks Zayn’s fit, too,” Harry whispers back.

“You both are shit at whispering,” Liam snaps. Zayn is pretending to be asleep again, but Harry can see that he’s blushing.

“Oh look, Zayn appears to be sleeping again,” Louis points out wickedly. “Would you mind carrying him back to his flat?”

“Louis can’t do it because he’s so helpless and small,” Harry agrees. Louis writes, ‘I am a giant dickbag,’ in deliberate lettering across Harry’s bicep in retaliation, and Harry has a brief, mad moment where he considers getting it tattooed. He doesn’t want Louis to let go of his hand.

Zayn mutters, “I can walk for myself, thanks,” and uncoils from where he lay in order to grab his jacket. “Come on, Lou.”

“Ah, fuck, I didn’t bring a coat,” Louis remembers.

Harry takes his sweater off without a second thought. He’s only wearing thin t-shirt underneath, but he’s brought a jacket and he’ll be fine. “Here, take this.”

Louis smiles at him. “Thanks, love.” The sweater slips over his shoulders and completely covers his hands, and Harry’s chests tightens in a way that’s not quite unpleasant at the sight.

 

**2 weeks, 1 day to finals**

They fall into a system where they rotate through the boy’s rooms and the library as a study spot. Louis and Zayn, both in their last year of uni, share a tiny flat farther away, but Niall, Liam and Harry are all in halls of residence on campus.

“It’s too fucking cold in here,” Is the first thing Louis announces when he steps into Harry and Niall’s shared space. To Harry’s delight, Louis is wearing his sweater.

“Is the heater still broken?” Liam asks. “It’s been a week.”

Louis shivers. “In that case, get me a thicker sweater. And I want tea.”

“Whatever you want,” Harry obliges, amused but also completely genuine.

As he goes to grab a sweater, he hears Niall announce, “I made a blanket fort. Let’s do our work in there.”

“I can see we’re gonna have another effective study session,” quips Louis. “Oh, by the way Haz, I cut the tag off your sweater. It was itchy.”

“Heyyy,” Harry protests from where he’s gone to get a teabag. “You can’t just cut my stuff.”

Louis scoffs. “I can do whatever I want.”

“Careful, Harry,” Zayn’s voice comes from somewhere deep within the blanket fort. “You’re gonna get all of your clothes back with giant holes in them.”

“Like that new Taylor Swift music video,” Niall’s voice emerges as well.

Louis intones, “‘Cause darling, I’m a nightmare. Dressed like a daydreaaam,” and Niall giggles. A daydream, Harry agrees in his head. Louis looks like a daydream dressed in Harry’s clothes.

“In all seriousness, please don’t actually destroy Harry’s sweaters,” Liam pleads. “He’ll just takes it as an excuse not to wear anything, and I’ve seen him naked enough, thanks.”

“Why’ve you seen him naked, Liam?” Louis demands.

“Mate, literally everyone has seen Harry naked. He just walks around without his pants on like it’s nothing.”

“Imagine what it’s like living with him,” Niall agrees darkly.

Harry comes back with the tea and sweater. “If Lou wants to see me naked, he doesn’t have to cut up my clothes,” he says serenely. “I’ll happily do it anyway.”

“You’re doing the flirting thing again,” Liam warns.

“I _know_ I am, Liam,” Harry grumbles. Niall snickers again.

Harry crawls into the fort with a couple of textbooks and wedges himself between Louis and Liam. He peeks at Louis out of the corner of his eye and sees him reading the post-it Harry’s left on his sweater, which reads, ‘ _Don’t cut the tag off this one!_ ’. Very deliberately, Louis peels the post-it off. And sticks to the back of an oblivious Liam’s head.

 

**2 weeks to finals**

The post-it messages become a thing, as does sweater-stealing. The study sessions get longer and more focused as the weight of finals becomes increasingly real. Harry occasionally bakes cookies to bring, though at least half of them get eaten by Niall on the way over; Louis brings red bull to literally every session after he sees how hyper Liam gets; Zayn reads so much poetry that when he naps, he sleep-talks in rhyme.

 

**1 week, 6 days to finals**

Post-it note #2, stuck to the sleeve Harry’s favorite sweater: _Louis. I’m trusting you with a white sweater. Please let it return to me the same color._

 

**1 week, 4 days to finals**

Post-it note #3, on Harry’s least favorite sweater: _You’re only getting black sweaters from now on._

 

**1 week, 2 days to finals**

#4, left on the softest sweater Harry can find: _You seem stressed. Are you ok?? Here’s a joke just for you: Why wouldn't the lobster share his toys? Because he was shellfish!! x_

 

**1 week to finals**

Harry wakes up from a nap with the feeling that something’s wrong. The lights in the library have been turned off, so that it’s nearly impossible to see. He sits up.

“Hello?” He calls.

“Mfff.”

“Lou?”

“Shhh. ‘m tryin t’ sleep.”

“Louis, where is everybody?”

The sound of yawning. “Dunno.”

“D’you know what time it is?”

“Hang on, lemme check.” Harry blinks against the flare of light as Louis checks his phone. “Shit, it’s nearly two in the morning.” He clicks his phone off and the light winks out.

“The other boys must’ve left before us at some point. No reason to call them to come get us, I suppose. They lock the doors when they close the library.”

“Do they turn off the heating as well? Feels a bit chilly.”

“Think so, yeah.”

Louis sighs. “Come and cuddle, then. Make yourself useful, for once.”

“Liam says that to me, too,” Harry complains.

“What, ‘come cuddle’?”

“No, that I’m not being useful.”

“Good, I don’t want to share your cuddles with anyone. And you’re plenty useful. Bring us cookies to all our study sessions, don’t you? And bring me tea whenever I want.”

Harry hums, pleased at the praise. He feels his way over in the dark until he’s looped around Louis, who’s soft in one of his sweaters once again. “Hi,” Harry breathes.

“Hi, babe.”

Harry matches their breathing and tries not to overthink the way they’re pressed together. They lay in silence for a bit. Then: “Are you tired, Lou?”

“Not really.”

“D’you want to hear a joke?”

“Not really.”

“What do you call a fly without wings?”

“Oh god, spare me, Haz.”

“A walk!”

“I hate you.”

“No, but wait. What do you call a fly without wings or legs?”

“Cuddle buddy or no, Styles, I will not hesitate to slap you-”

“A roll!”

“Disgraceful,” Louis groans, but he’s laughing too. Harry smiles, pleased with himself. “Alright, change the subject, I can’t bear to listen to you shame yourself even more.”

“Umm...ok. Truth or dare?”

“I’m sorry, how old are you again? I feel like I’m with one of my little sisters.”

Harry shifts a little, so that he knows they’re facing each other. He can feel Louis’ breath warm on his face. “There’s your first truth question,” he murmurs. “Tell me about your sisters.”

And Louis, to Harry’s surprise, relents. He tells Harry about his sisters, all five of them and one little brother too, and how crowded the house is now back at home. “Don’t know where I’m going to go, once I graduate,” he admits. “There isn’t room there for me anymore.”

“Are you nervous about graduating?”

“Shit, yeah. I’ve no clue what I’m meant to be doing once I get out. Or how I’m going to pay off my loans.”

Harry bites his lip. “Maybe you could keep a flat ‘round here,” he offers. “Keep me- keep me and the lads company.”

“I’d like that, yeah.” He thinks he hears a smile in Louis’ voice. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Have any siblings of your own?”

They go back and forth for a while, opting mainly for truth questions as neither of them want to untangle from each other in order to get up and complete a dare. Harry gets to learn a lot about Louis’ life before uni, and what he hopes it’ll be like after uni as well; in return, Harry ends up telling Louis a lot of embarrassing stories from his childhood. Harry’s sure Louis is saving them to hold over his head later, but finds he doesn’t mind the idea as much as he should.

“Ok, dare for me this time,” Louis eventually announces. “Give me the best you’ve got, Styles.”

Only one idea comes to mind, but Harry hesitates for a moment, considering. He decides to go for it. “Kiss me?”

Louis huffs out a soft, surprised laugh. “I don’t think you quite understand how dares are supposed to work.”

“Even so,” Harry says stubbornly. His face is hot but he refuses to take it back, or release his hold on Louis’ sweater.

There’s a beat of silence as Harry strains to see Louis’ expression in the gloom, only to find it unreadable; finally, he glimpses a flash of teeth as Louis whispers, ”Alright.”

It’s the most careful kiss he’s ever received, just a gentle press of closed mouths for a sweet, slow moment. Then Louis draws back, eyes dark and liquid and his smile barely visible in the shadows.

“Your turn,” he says. “I dare-”

“I’ll give you the best I’ve got,” Harry agrees, and kisses him again.

 

**6 days to finals**

Someone finds them and lets them out of the library in the morning. Harry walks Louis home holding his hand, and when they finally reach his door, Louis smiles at him, still sleepy-soft. “Come in?”

Harry does.

 

**4 days to finals**

#5, stuck to the collar of a black speckled sweater: _I can’t believe Zayn and Liam don’t even have each other’s numbers yet. Should we just lock them in a closet together?_

 

 **3 days to finals**  
#6, on Harry’s favorite sweater, now a pale pink from the last time Louis wore it: _Speaking of which, I can’t believe I don’t have your number yet. You should fix that. ;) x_

 

 **2 days to finals**  
The final time they have scheduled to meet, everyone shows up at Louis and Zayn’s flat without their textbooks. Niall is carrying his guitar. Liam’s got extra pillows. Harry’s got alcohol. When Zayn opens the door, the shadows under his eyes are immense and there’s a cigarette in his mouth. He takes them in for a moment and finally smiles.

“I thought we could take a night to relax,” Niall explains. “We’re fucked at this point anyway, nothing more we can do.”

They get tipsy quickly. Niall is probably the most sober out of all of them, but he likes an excuse to get loud and soon enough he’s gotten them all to sing while he plays guitar.

“Do you know any songs that aren’t shitty pop songs?” Louis demands from where he’s splayed out next to Harry.

“You can pretend to hate it, but you’ve known the lyrics to every song I’ve played,” Niall points out.

“Hey, you’re a really good singer, Liam,” notes Zayn.

Liam blushes. “Thanks.”

“I’ve never heard you sing before tonight,” Harry realizes. “Liam, why don’t you sing more?”

“I used to want to do it as a career,” Liam confesses, which isn’t quite an answer.

“You probably could do it,” Louis says, not teasing for once. “Why didn’t you?”

Liam shifts uncomfortably. “Just grew up, I guess. Kind of a childish dream, don’t you think?”

Louis continues to needle him. “Thats rubbish. Just because you’re not professional doesn’t mean you have to stop singing entirely.”

Liam shrugs. “Maybe I’ll take it up again.”

“You could even write your own songs,” Niall suggests. “I muck around a bit with that meself.”

“Zayn’d probably be a good writing partner,” Louis adds slyly. “Getting an English degree, and all that.”

“I used to write poetry,” Zayn admits easily, smiling at Liam.

Harry watches fondly. It strikes him that he’s felt less alone over the past three weeks with these boys than he has the rest of the school year, and he can’t help but accredit it to Louis. It was Louis who had, that first day, walked with Zayn to make sure that he felt comfortable with a study group full of strangers; it’s Louis who makes Niall laugh the loudest and coaxes Liam out of his shell; it’s Louis who, in his own way, makes sure everybody gets time to take a break from studying and get out of their own head for a bit. Harry tries to imagine how Liam would have reacted more than 3 weeks ago if someone had pushed him about his singing, or anything that he was sensitive about, and can’t envision him doing anything but shutting down. Louis had drawn Liam out more than Harry had managed in months of attempting. Harry might be the only one who has fallen for him romantically, but they all belong to Louis, one way or another.

 

**1 day to finals**

#7, simply pressed to the door of Louis’ bedroom: _I think I’m in love with you._

 

 **Finals week**  
Someone is knocking on Harry’s door hideously early. He opens the door and a hand slaps a post-it to his face.

“What,” he says.

“What,” Louis says.

“Oh,” says Harry. “That. Um?”

“Yes, that,” Louis says, a hysterical edge to his voice. “You’re choosing now to tell me you’re in love with me? We’ve only known each other for 3 weeks. It’s the day of finals, Harry. And after that, I’ve only got one semester left, and then I’m _leaving_ , and I don’t know what I want to do with my life even _without_ a relationship-”

“Lou,” Harry pleads. “Breathe. You’re freaking out.”

“ _It’s the first day of finals, and you said you’re in love with me._ ”

“Well, yes,” Harry says nervously. He’s still got a post it note stuck to his forehead and it’s terribly cold, but he can’t focus on anything but the look on Louis’ face. “But you don’t have to think about the second part right now. You don’t even have to say anything back? I was just letting you know? “

Louis takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says. He reaches up and unpeels the post-it from Harry’s face. He puts it in his pocket. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Harry repeats. “You’re gonna ace your finals, Lou.”

Louis tries to smile. “I know," he says. “You, too.” He leaves.

 

**Winter Holidays**

Harry doesn’t see Louis until all the finals are over. He doesn’t remember how his exams go, either, struggling through them in a daze. After they are finally finished, Niall, who has breezed through the week, takes him out for drinks and then drifts off to some party that Harry opts to skip. He walks to their dorm alone.

Louis is sitting by the door, waiting for him. Harry stops short when he sees him. “Hi,” he says uncertainly.

Louis stands up. “Hi. Zayn and and Liam are having celebratory end-of-finals sex in my flat.”

“Oh,” Harry says. He looks at Louis, standing there quietly in one of his sweaters, face still the brightest thing Harry’s ever seen, holding his stupid post-it.

“Come in?” Harry asks.

Louis does.


End file.
